Willow stepped onto the dance floor with Tara at her side. Attempting to mix twirling with walking, the redhead nearly tripped over her shoe.
Her smirking girlfriend watched her efforts to play it off. "Want to try again?" Tara asked before taking her partner's hand and twirling Willow in a circle. Red strings whipped against closed eyes, a smile curving the redhead's lips.
"Beautiful." Tara whispered once Willow finished her circle and faced her.
Lightheaded, Willow smiled, "Dance with me." She began to sway when the song changed. Closing her eyes, she raised her hands to Tara's face.
Here's a story
Feather-like tips floated across Tara's skin, barely touching the moist surface. It was as if Willow was attempting to learn every pore, every fleck of skin that covered her girlfriend's face.
Tender threads exquisitely binding
Blink was all Tara could do while her partner repeatedly glided her palms and fingertips over her mouth, nose, eyes, and her soul.
The spell complete, Willow opened her eyes, smiling.
Love so strong whatever the weather
Tara could feel her heart beating swiftly against her chest. The sound echoed into her blood, freezing her entire body. The mildly tipsy blonde stared in awe while her partner moved against her.
It's you and me, babe, forever and ever
There's the saying that the consumption of alcohol often brings out the 'real' side of someone, but Tara knew that Willow's actions were solely her own.
The redhead slipped her hands up her partner's hips and underneath the hem of Tara's shirt. Her fingertips danced across the supple flesh of the blonde's stomach, teasing gently. Beneath the dark, colored lights of the dance-floor, she saw Tara's eyes, deep, glowing embers.
Suddenly all time and space
Willow's movements were like poetry. Hands descended from spine, over the swell of Tara's butt, pausing to squeeze before traveling back up.
And I'm wrapped up in Heaven's grace
Willow's cheek grazed against her lover's. "You're not dancing," she whispered.
Tara felt the cool, scented breath flutter near her ear, a slow lopsided grin stretching her face, "Mm-hmm," the blonde lazily nodded, obviously not hearing a word her lover said. Her focus was elsewhere.
"Having fun?" Recently wetted lips pressed closely to Tara's ear.
The blonde coyly moved her hand down, trying to curve her palm atop Willow's thigh. The move, however, was deflected and Tara found her hands at her side.
"Uh-uh, no touching."
The frustrated woman could pout, scowl, and even stomp her foot, but she knew the rules would remain.
"I can't dance without touching you, Willow."
Further words were useless. Tara's throat grew dry as hands hooked beneath the front portion of her jeans.
"Yes, you can."
Warm knuckles pressed into her belly, leaving fingers to graze against wispy hairs. With her feet rooted in one spot, Tara could only follow as she was guided.
"Are you ready to go home?" Tara asked once the song ended. Her hands never left her side while her thighs interlocked with Willow's.
"Nope, I'm dancing," Willow nuzzled the blonde's neck, kissing below her jaw. A new song came through the speakers, igniting the redhead's energy.
"You can dance at my apartment," her girlfriend replied, moping. "There'll be bonus points," Tara enticed, suggestively.
"I think I've caught up by now, don't you?" A flick of tongue near her lip told the blonde that Willow was completely right. The redhead smiled to herself, remembering something she had seen on the way in, "C'mon." Without another word, she grasped Tara's hand.
The midnight air promised rain as the women left the nightclub, stumbling out onto the sidewalk. Although they no longer felt the effect of their earlier beverages, the couple tilted against each other while they exited the building.
Stepping off the curb, Willow stopped short. "Let's get some ice cream," she nodded toward a small ice cream parlor a little further down the street that read "open".
Tara, who had snagged on her partner's unmoving arm, followed Willow's eyesight. "It's late. They'll probably be closing soon." She said, assuming that her girlfriend would give in and take her home. She knew that it had been her idea to go out, but after spending the past few hours with Willow, her nice, comfy bed was calling her name.
"All the more reason why we should hurry," smiling, Willow pulled the blonde woman along.
The twenty-something man behind the counter of the parlor took their orders before scurrying off to make them. A group of four people occupied a booth near the front of the ice cream shop, socializing amongst themselves.
The couple settled at a table a few seats away.
"Are you ready to go back tomorrow?" Tara asked, licking the circular edge of her ice cream cone.
The manager smiled, guiltily. "Yeah, I think I've gotten too lazy over the weekend." Leisurely eating from her cup, Willow went on. "What do you think about changing the menu a little? Maybe add a few items."
Tara shrugged, nodding. "What were you thinking of adding?"
"Desserts," Willow raised her spoon and kept it an inch from her mouth to let the ice cream slide down and onto her tongue. Tara's eyes bulged and she looked down at her cone and frowned.
"Want some?" Willow asked, hiding her smirk behind her cup.
Shaking her head, Tara cleared her throat. "What kind?"
"Not sure yet," the redhead took another spoon to her mouth, "but nothing too sugary," she licked the side of her mouth, "or messy." Willow grinned, knowing that Tara wouldn't last through the entire cup.
"Sounds good," was all the blonde could say, her eyes faintly glazed.
Willow ate a few more spoons, conscious of the eyes on her. "You're dripping." She looked across to her girlfriend and stifled a snicker.
"What?" Tara blinked, glanced down at her hand, and blinked again. Her ice cream had begun to melt down into the napkin around the cone. She hastily soaked up the runny dessert with extra napkins, blushing fiercely when she finished. The young woman knew that the cone was too far gone to be saved and reluctantly threw it into a nearby trashcan.
"We can share mine," Willow said, feeling responsible for Tara's mishap.
"Just a scoop," the blonde said and leaned forward. The spoon skimmed across her bottom lip, cold against her skin before it slipped in.
Willow swallowed and dipped the spoon back into her cup. She lifted another scoop to her own lips and a pearl of ice cream found its way to the bottom, where it clung hopelessly. With a backstroke of her tongue, the redhead captured the soft bead and rolled it into her mouth.
Fifteen scoops and endless smiles later, the container of ice cream was empty. The couple must have sat in silence for the better part of twenty-minutes until one of them interrupted the quietness.
"Let's go home."